


Torchwood and the Goat of Chanukkah

by Gypsylady



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alien goats in Cardiff, Alternate Future, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Other, Recipe, chanukkah, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:32:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsylady/pseuds/Gypsylady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course Jack knows the talking goat!</p><p>Ignoring Children of Earth. Completely. It never happened. A POX ON THAT FALSE DOCUMENTARY! (http://ask-aboutcoffee.livejournal.com/36837.html)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torchwood and the Goat of Chanukkah

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, except for Tsig and he lives in Cornelius, OR, with a harem. (Well, the goat who inspired his character does.) Don't sue me, the only thing I have of value is my mind and I'm the only one who knows how to use it. And so on and so forth.
> 
> No beta. This was written as part of the 2009 Torchwood Calendar's December story-a-day series. At the time, I didn't know anyone to beta. Feel free to complain. Just not to me.

"It's a WHAT?" Gwen tapped on her earpiece, as if that would make the words she just heard through it make more sense. "A talking goat? Are you absolutely sure this wasn't a schoolboy prank?"

"I interviewed the informant myself," Andy assured her. 

Ianto's voice crackled into her ear, cutting Andy off. "We're getting reports in from a few residents," he said. "Apparently the goat is on Cyncoed Road, going south-southeast from the intersection with Tygwyn Road. Either it really is a talking goat or someone's pulling a really elaborate hoax. No one's reported seeing any kind of speaker on the goat, although several people say he's wearing a cap on his head."

"A cap?" Gwen asked, her voice unable to hide her skepticism. "A talking goat in a cap? This must be a prank. Maybe the speaker is under the cap?"

"I'm telling you," Andy insisted, having finally reestablished his link to her comm unit. "The report we got was pretty specific. The goat is by himself, no one seems to be directing him, and he's moving very purposefully towards something."

"Is there a nettle patch near Cyncoed Road?" Gwen mused as she kept driving. "Why do we have to deal with it? What's wrong with the RSPCA?"

"The police sent it to us," Andy replied, as if that explained everything. "Ever since I signed on with you lot, they seem to think you and I take care of every weird thing that happens."

"We do, of course." The new voice was Capt. Jack Harkness'. "Gwen, I'm done with my appointment and I'm on my way towards you. Should be there in less than five minutes. We can meet up when we spot a loose goat or get to the city limits, whichever comes first."

It was less than two minutes later that Gwen turned right onto the street where the goat had been reported. She looked around and saw no indication that any animal had been eating from anyone's landscaping, nor did she see any sign of animal droppings. More convinced than ever that this was a hoax, she sighed and kept driving.

The SUV with Jack at the wheel hove into view at the same time as she spotted the goat. It was a fairly average sized goat, off-white with a few brown patches and a standard beard. And, as she had been warned, there was a cap on its head, brimless and apparently fitted. She parked along the side of the road, the SUV behind her, and approached the animal warily. For his part, the goat stood and watched her with what seemed to be mild interest. When she got close enough to see the goat's eyes, the goat spoke to her.

"You're from Torchvood, den?"

Gwen hesitated, trying to find a source for the voice other than the goat's mouth. She saw nothing so she replied, "I am. How do you know about us?" Her mind was racing, trying to remember if there was enough Retcon in her kit to take care of what she figured should be at least several schoolboys. This couldn't possibly be a one-man prank. She scanned the bushes, trying to spot them, but there was nothing to see.

"Dere's no vun in de bushes!" The goat sounded exasperated. Gwen realized his accent was familiar and not particularly Welsh. Or even British.

"Who are you?" she asked, glancing at Jack who had just joined her.

"You can call me Tsig*," the goat announced. "It's actually mine title but de name von't fit on human lips."

"Sig" Gwen tried.

The goat tut-tutted. "Oy, dahling, it's TSig. TS. Try it again. A nice looking girl like you, vaht are you doing mit dis fellow? He's a bad one, Jack Harkenss is."

Gwen turned to Jack and saw his face light up in a traditional Jack Harkness I-Know-You grin. "Tsig? From Gedi*? I haven't seen you in....how've you been? Gwen, this really is an alien. Although why he's wandering around Cardiff is still a mystery."

If it could be said that a goat shrugged, Tsig did so. "I vas in de area and I got a sudden desire for latkes. It's almost Chanukkah, is it, boychick? So I said to myself I'll just go look up some of my old friends on Earth. You made de best latkes here, did you know that, shayne meidel?" The question was addressed to Gwen who stared open-mouthed until Jack rescued her.

"Latkes. Jewish potato pancakes. They're traditionally eaten during Chanukkah. And now that I think of it, you're heading towards one of the bigger Cardiff synagogues, aren't you?" Jack nodded at the road the goat had been following.

"You mean to tell me that the goat is Jewish?" Gwen asked, then blushed to realize she had undoubtedly just been offensive to an intelligent and friendly alien.

The goat looked at her with an expression that might have been kind. She really couldn't be sure. "You t'ink a God as powerful as De Holy Vun, (Baruch Hu) is only on vun vorlt? Ve keep da holy days, but of course Chanukkah is only on Earth."

Before Gwen could ask why and open up what Jack was certain would be a giant can of vurms...worms, he corrected his mind...he interrupted, "So, Tsig, you know someone in Cardiff?"

"Not a soul until I saw you," the goat replied. "But da UNIT folks are all uniforms and pomp and security now, and I didn't vant to get caught up in all DAT mishegoss. I tried to ring up a couple of folks I knew when Torchvood vas in London, but it's all gone now. Building and all. So sad, such a shame. Nice people, dey vere. Not dat Hartman vooman, vot a bitch an I don't mean a nice doggie. But dere vere good folks dere."

Jack nodded sadly. "Only twenty seven survived," he said. "Most of them took Retcon to get over it. I've got one of them working here. The only one, so far as I can tell, who wanted to stay part of Torchwood after Canary Wharf fell. None even transferred to UNIT."

"Oy, so sad, so sad," the goat agreed.

Gwen's earpiece made a cracking noise in her ear. "Ask him if he remembers Dave Kaminsky," Ianto said.

Not sure why, Gwen did as Ianto had requested. The goat's face lit up like a --- Christmas tree was the wrong word. Menorah, then.

"Davey? You know little Davey? Vere is da boy?"

"I--I'm not sure," Gwen admitted. "Ianto Jones works with us; he came from Torchwood in London and he asked me to ask you."

"Davey survived," Ianto said. "He refused the Retcon, but left the country. Last I heard he was in Canada somewhere. He was my cubicle mate. And he once mentioned Jewish aliens. I thought he was joking."

"Davey is in Canada," Gwen repeated. The goat nearly danced.

"Dat boy! He vas a good vun! So nice looking. A good cook, too. Ah, how I loved his sveet potato tsimmes! Dis Ianto, he's a tall boy? Dark hair? Talks funny, like you do, dahlink. I mean no disrespect, mind you, Gven. But you have qvite de accent."

"Yes, that's Ianto. And he doesn't talk funny, at least here they don't consider it funny," Jack replied. "He and Gwen are locals. Actually, at the moment, most of my team is locals. It's good that way. But that isn't getting you any closer to your latkes, is it? And, Tsig, why are you in Cardiff? Once you realized there was no Torchwood in London, where did you get the idea that there was a latke to be had in Cardiff?"

"I came looking for you, idyot!" Tsig told him. "I figured at least you have a nice girl can cook me a latke. Like dis vun, maybe?"

Jack laughed. "Sorry. Gwen's not her family's cook. That'd be her husband. And he's not Torchwood."

Tsig winked at Gwen. "Such a sheyne meidel, I figured you must have a husband. And he cooks! Such a catch! So, Jack, who cooks for you?"

Before Jack could make a snide reply, their earpieces crackled again. "Why doesn't one of you, by which I mean Gwen, go down the street to the synagogue and find out if someone there has a special latke recipe? Bring it back here and we can make it for Tsig, and have a little party for him and then he can be on his way again. Maybe he can call Davey from here, if I can dig up his number." Ianto was always the practical one.

"But it's not going to be Ianto cooking!" Andy broke in. "I've had his food. He's got a talent for frozen entrees, but not much else."

"Oh, he has many more talents," Jack said and to Gwen's amazement, the goat raised an eyebrow.

Jack escorted Tsig to the SUV and Gwen overheard him ask about bathroom facilities in the Hub. Deciding she really didn't want to know how the question was answered, she got into her car and drove towards Cardiff United Synagogue. Fortunately, someone was available to help her find a recipe, and once she brought it back to the Hub, Andy set about making the dish.

While Tsig did complain that the pancakes didn't contain potatoes, he was too busy regaling everyone with tales so incredible they made Jack sound mundane by comparison for the complaints to be more than formalities. When Ianto finally found Dave Kaminsky's phone number (and apologized for waking him at an incredibly early hour) the goat donned a headset and spent a half hour getting recipes from him and finding out more top secret information about Canadian alien tech collection than Jack had managed to get in three years.

It was near dawn when the goat finally stretched and said, "Dis has been lovely, mein friends, but now I need a nap and den I tink I should be toddling on to da next vurld I'm due at. But let me tell you all, I have had a vunderful time tonight and vill report back to mine government dat Earth is still a fine planet. Despite da idyot'n in UNIT. Oh, and Jack? I don't care if dis vun doesn't cook..." he pointed to Ianto with his chin..."he's a lovely boy. A strong vun. You did good mit him."

Ianto uncharacteristically blushed. Andy chuckled under his breath and Gwen rolled her eyes. Jack, however, beamed. "It's good to have confirmation," he told Tsig. "Now I'm going to suggest we find a place for you to bed down somewhere in the lower levels because you might have noticed we have a large prehistoric winged predator in residence and you look too much like her occasional treats for my comfort. Gwen, Andy, go home. Get some sleep. Tomorrow the aliens might be the bad guys again."

Gwen nodded, yawning, and started to gather up her jacket and purse. "Zeit gezunt," Tsig said. "And tell dat husband he's got a catch in you!" She grinned and waved as she left the Hub.

Andy lingered, watching the goat with a degree of disbelief. "A talking goat and you're Jewish to boot? What a world!"

Tsig nodded. "Vaht a vonderful, vonderful vorld."

The following recipe can be found (I kid you not -- oh, kid, a pun...ar ar...) at the website of the Cardiff United Synagoge. I can only assume this is the recipe the helpful person gave Gwen.

 

Cheese Latkes

Here is a twist on the traditional latke recipe!

Ingredients:  
3 eggs  
1/2 tsp salt  
1 cup milk  
5 Tbsps sugar  
1 cup cottage cheese, drained  
1 tsp vanilla extract  
1 1/2 cups flour  
1/2 cup oil for frying  
1 tsp baking powder

Place all the ingredients except oil together in a large bowl. Mix until smooth. Heat 1/2 cup oil in a skillet. Using a large spoon, drop the batter into hot oil. Fry 2 to 3 minutes on each side, until lightly browned. Continue until batter is used up, adding oil when necessary. The latkes may be served topped with sour cream, applesauce, or maple syrup.

**Author's Note:**

> *Tsig=Yiddish for goat  
> *Gedi=Hebrew for goat  
> Why not?
> 
> I am most assuredly not trying to be rude in my portrayal of Tsig's accent. My grandparents spoke like that. It's a shame that the ethnic accent makes most modern westerners think of the speaker as less than intelligent. And I apologize to any Welsh readers because Tsig really wasn't being disrespectful. (It should be obvious, but just in case...)


End file.
